


All They Have is Each Other

by Tinybelieverbug



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Blitzbee AU, Death Reactions, Death backstory, It's Time, One-Shot, for tears, just one, oh babey, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23382916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinybelieverbug/pseuds/Tinybelieverbug
Summary: Bumblebee's Creators where medics in the Great War. Wars don't get won without sacrifices.
Relationships: Cricket(OC)/Triage(OC)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	All They Have is Each Other

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by Eve-Of-Halloween's blitzbee AU over on Tumblr, and I planned this a while ago, but now I'm stuck at home so I might as well work on it. 
> 
> I tried my best with what I got to work with, so hopefully they aren't too OOC, I haven't seen TFA in a couple years, so most of this is based off memory and the AU. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Triage didn’t know how to tell Bumblebee. He was barely over sparkling age, and to the small bot, Cricket was the one who hung the small moon in their sky. He could’ve been Primus himself. 

So when Triage walked into his quarters, for the first time in over two deca-cycles. He heard his own Sire, laughing with his sparkling. Ratchet was the one who was taking care of Bee, while Triage and Cricket were on the front lines, saving bots. 

He’d be so mad to find out what happened. He told both of them to stay away from the front, knowing full well what could happen, like what had happened to Triage’s carrier. But now it happened to Bumblebee’s carrier. 

“So, are you just gonna stand there?” Ratchet’s voice rang out, punctuated by Bumblebee’s shrieks of happiness as Ratchet slung his little frame under his arm by his pede. 

“‘Ire! ‘Ire! Gramps took care of me!” His little voice rang out, full of innocence. Triage wasn’t sure how to respond. Now that he was back, Ratchet would have to go to his own wartime duties, and Triage would have to take care of Little Bee. 

“Where’s 'Arrier?” “Where’s Cricket?” They asked in unison, Ratchet eyeing Triage, and Bumblebee wondered where all the hugs and kisses were. 

Triage carefully took his son from Ratchets arms, and held him against his chassis. He held his servos against Bumblebee’s little back and waist, and could barely get a whisper out of his throat. 

“Carrier won’t be coming home.” 

"What do you mean? 'Arrier isn't coming home? Where is he?" Bumblebee's little blue optics gazed up at his Sire, with confusion in them. Traige’s own creator was staring at him with worry, mainly because he, too, knew what happened. 

“There were bombs, everywhere. There isn’t even much of him left.” Triage tried his best to keep his vocalizer from glitching, but it was harder than he thought. Especially harder when Bumblebee’s confusion didn’t let up. 

“When is he coming home?” Bumblebee looked around, not sure what his Sire meant. “Where is he?” Bee looked up at Triage, asking it again. 

“He’s at the Well now, Sweetspark.” Triage’s voice was still wobbly, though he had to be careful in his way of explaining. Bee was still very little, neither of them had thought to explain any of this to him yet. 

Bumblebee was still confused, but Triage couldn’t hold it back anymore. He sunk to his knees, still with his sparkling in his arms, and tears started falling. He didn’t even realize his own creator wrapping his large arms around them both. 

~~~

“Gramps! I’m heading out!!” Bumblebee yelled, hoping that the older ‘bots audials still worked, else he get yelled at for sneaking out. He made his way through the house, making sure to avoid Ratchet at all costs. He didn’t want to be caught, even if he wasn’t sneaking out. 

He snickered as he reached for the door controls, though as soon as he opened it, a messenger was standing there, who was well double, if not triple Bumblebee’s own height. 

“Where is your caretaker?” The mech was cold, and if he planned on intimidating Bumblebee, he was succeeding. 

“Uh, I’ll go get him. Be right back!” Bumblebee took three steps back, then turned on his heel and ran through the halls. 

“C’mon Gramps, where are you? There’s some military guy looking for you!” He kept half-singing under his breath, though he finally found Ratchet, who was making his way to the open door. 

“Gramps! Some military messenger is asking for my caretaker!” Bumblebee blurted as soon as he got in earshot. 

Ratchet looked unimpressed, with a ‘What did you do Know’ air around him. As he surely made his way to the door, he pulled Bumblebee behind him. 

“I am the Caretaker, what has he done?” At the accusation, the messenger's optic brows flew, shaking his head. 

“It was nothing the sparkling did, this regards his creator.” The messenger hands Ratchet a letter, from the Magnus, and gives him a solemn face. “I am sorry for your loss, and expect the remaining pieces delivered in the next few days.”

Ratchet couldn’t believe any of this. The Autobots were more sensitive when Cricket died, and all they send is a messenger?

“How could he see me as a sparkling? I’m way older, now.” Bumblebee didn’t think of anything with the weird message, and craned his neck to see what the letter was. “Is it from Sire?” 

“It’s about Sire, I’m sure.” Ratchet sighed, not sure how to tell Bumblebee. He lost Cricket so young, and now Triage is gone. “You should sit down, kid. I gotta tell you somethin.”

Bumblebee wasn’t quite sure what to expect, though it couldn’t have been good. He was afraid that it was something very bad, since he hadn’t seen his Sire for a couple deca-cycles. 

“Ratchet? What’s in that letter?” 

He was slightly taken back, as Bumblebee never used his name in preference to the nickname of ‘Gramps’. 

“Your sire, he isn’t coming home.” Ratchet cringed inwardly, acutely aware that he used the same wording that Triage had used when Bumblebee was much smaller. Now, he knows better. 

“You mean he’s offline, right? Those Decepticons offlined him, didn’t they?!” 

Ratchet nodded, and joined Bee on the small seat, letting the younger, and innocent bot cry into his shoulder. 

For all they had was each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated, and my other works will get updated as I get motivation to work on those. Thanks for Reading!


End file.
